


It Still Hurts

by goth_on_ham



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crying, Emotional Manipulation, Homosexuality, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 08:18:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12428697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goth_on_ham/pseuds/goth_on_ham
Summary: Set at the end of 4x05. Sofia comforts Oswald, but Oswald's pain goes deeper than the physical.





	It Still Hurts

Her hands were warm, soothing. Slowly, ever so slowly, he let the tension in his body ease. His head lolled back against his shoulders and he looked at the ceiling, it was blurred through the mist of his tears.

Sofia took her time, gently massaging the painful joint, humming quietly, as if she had all the time and patience in the world to care for him.

After he had been so unkind to her. He didn't deserve this.

Another tear rolled down his cheek and his breath shuddered. 

Sofia shushed him. “It's okay.”

When he bit down a sob, she repeated it. “It’s okay, Oswald.”

It wasn't okay. It really wasn't. 

A man in his position couldn't be weak. It was all very well letting the pain overcome him when there was no one to see, but in front of someone else… That was unforgivably stupid. 

Yet he didn't care. He didn't want her to stop.

It had been nearly a year since he had last felt any warmth, any kindness, and although he had tried to tell himself that was what he wanted, it hurt. It hurt so much.

It was more painful than his ankle, more painful than all the bruises and the harsh words he had gotten in his life combined. 

Loneliness was the worst sort of agony. Sometimes, he felt like it was killing him.

When he had been in school, long after the marks the bullies gave him had faded, he would continue to cry. He would cry because it still hurt.

His mother had understood. She let him put his head on her lap and she would stroke his hair, sometimes singing softly, sometimes telling him how sensitive he was, how sweet.

“Does it still hurt?” Sofia asked, and Oswald nodded his head ever so slightly. 

She smoothed her thumb over the bump of his ankle. Oswald brought a hand up to his face and wiped away the tears that were trailing down his cheeks. 

“I have work to be getting on with-”

“Stay,” She insisted, with compelling softness. “Tell me more about your mother.”

He wanted to. Part of him knew he was being a fool, but he wanted to. He also wanted to believe she was only doing this out of kindness. With no ulterior motive. Like his mother would.

“What was her name?”

“Gertrud… She used, uh.” His breath caught in his throat as one of her fingertips gently circled over the sensitive skin on the inside of his ankle. “She used the old pronunciation of our name. Kapelput.” He finished, with a shiver. 

Sofia smiled. “I see.”

“All my life, she was always there for me. Even when I was grown up, she would look after me. She would-” He could feel her hand climb a little higher up his leg and he froze. Her touch no longer felt motherly. It changed into something else. Something he did not want from her. He shook his head desperately. “No. I’m sorry. I can't.”

He didn't fully know what he was saying he couldn't do. He only knew that he couldn't. 

Sofia dropped her hand back down immediately and apologised. 

“I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I only thought…” She trailed off and lowered her eyes penitently. “I’m sorry.”

Oswald's heart was beating fast in his chest, so fast he could hear it. He squeezed his eyes shut, he tried to slow it down through sheer willpower alone. It was ridiculous. It wasn't as if she had groped him, or forced a kiss.

When he had asked her to, she had stopped straight away. He had no reason to be so unsettled.

He breathed in slowly, then exhaled slowly. He scolded himself for being so sensitive.

After a short period of quiet, Sofia spoke again.

“Oswald, can I ask you something?” She requested carefully.

“I suppose.” He replied, with some reluctance.

Her hands lingered, only lightly touching his ankle now. Each fingertip felt hot against his skin. They almost hurt.

“Are you…” She hesitated. Then, she continued. “Are you gay?”

Oswald had been asked that before, but never by his mother. For some reason, such a possibility had never crossed her mind. Oswald was fine with that. It hadn't seemed worthwhile telling her the truth. After all, it wasn't as if he had some handsome young man to introduce her to.

The people who had asked him about it in the past had never asked kindly. They would jeer it at him, thinking they already knew the answer. They used it as an alternative thing to beat him with when they got bored of using their fists.

“Yes.” He replied quietly.

It wasn't exactly a secret anymore. It wasn't something he was ashamed of. Yet somehow saying it aloud had never happened before. 

Even when he had fallen in love with Ed, he hadn't said it. 

He loved Ed. Only Ed.

If people couldn't work out what that implied then that was their problem. 

He forced out a humourless chuckle. “Don't tell me you're surprised.”

He knew people talked about it. No one dared taunt him over it anymore, but he knew people still talked. Falcone had probably suspected. He was a professional so he hadn't ever made his disapproval apparent, but Oswald wouldn't have been surprised if a traditionalist like him had said unfavourable things about it within the earshot of his daughter.

“Not really,” She admitted, and she was smiling again but it wasn't unkind. Her hands wrapped around his ankle and she began to soothe it again. “As I said, I won’t judge.”

Oswald felt the pain in his ankle finally starting to fade under her touch, but more tears still came to his eyes. He brought his hands up to his face and pressed hard, as if he could stop his pathetic snivelling by manually preventing any more leaks. He couldn't.

Sofia began to hum for him again, and Oswald whispered out a barely audible 'thank you’.


End file.
